


Across Time

by hrhrionastar



Series: The Honeyverse [21]
Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: Episode: s01e22 Reckoning, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-06
Updated: 2012-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-30 17:23:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/334237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrhrionastar/pseuds/hrhrionastar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard and Cara find themselves in a future no one could have envisioned. Richard can't make sense of Nicholas Rahl's world, but luckily Kahlan has left him a letter…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Across Time

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This takes place in the [honeyverse.](http://hrhrionastar.livejournal.com/73497.html#cutid1)

Gray mist gradually resolved into a grassy hill overlooking the Strait of Sorrows. The water wasn't visible from here, but the moisture was in the taste of the air.  
  
So far, so familiar.  
  
Richard staggered, falling to his knees on the soft ground. He felt as if he'd just run for leagues and leagues.  
  
Someone offered him a hand up. He took it, noticing the callused fingers and firm grip, and looked up into the man's face.  
  
The red velvet robes and prominent nose set off instant alarm bells in Richard's mind, but this was not Darken Rahl. The man had to be at least a decade older, if not more. His hair reached his shoulders, and was progressively whiter on top, so that it looked like the ends had been dipped in ink. There were laugh lines around his blue eyes.  
  
Those eyes…  
  
"Hello, Uncle Richard," said the man. He hadn't released Richard, and now grasped Richard's hand in both of his. "My name is Nicholas Rahl, and these are my sisters, Dara, Dacey, and Melantrys."  
  
Richard looked around in time to catch these introductions; there were four women in the clearing, three of whom bore a marked resemblance to Nicholas Rahl in features and coloring. The fourth was a Mord'Sith of Richard's own age.  
  
She looked as bewildered as he felt, her eyes darting from face to face and her hands resting on the hilts of her agiels.  
  
The youngest of Nicholas Rahl's sisters, Melantrys, moved casually between Richard and the Boxes of Orden.  
  
"And you must be Cara," Nicholas Rahl went on, smiling at the Mord'Sith.  
  
"Lord Rahl," she said, putting one fist over her heart uncertainly.  
  
Richard tried to think. Only seconds ago, he had put together the Boxes of Orden while Kahlan Confessed him. The Mord'Sith had pressed her agiel to his neck, and that agony was the last thing he could remember, except for the grayness.  
  
This was the same clearing, but Zedd and Kahlan were gone. Where were they? Richard had to find them.  
  
Another of the sisters knelt before one of the Boxes of Orden and drew a dagger. While Richard and the Mord'Sith watched in total bemusement, she cut her palm and let a few drops of her blood fall on the Box.  
  
It disintegrated, the magic symbols traced across its surface fading, until there was only dust.  
  
She repeated the process with the other two Boxes. Richard wanted to protest, but he was still amazed that such destruction was possible.  
  
The third sister helped her to her feet. "Thanks, Dacey," she said, and Richard deduced that she must be Dara.  
  
Nicholas was also watching Dara and Dacey. "How's the fabric of space-time?" he asked matter-of-factly. "Any problems?"  
  
Dacey shut her eyes, as if she were listening to the wind. Then she tucked a strand of chocolate brown hair behind her ear.  
  
The gesture was heart catching. How often had Richard seen Kahlan do that same thing? Nicholas Rahl and his sisters all had Kahlan's blue eyes, too.  
  
But how was that possible? Kahlan didn't share any ancestors with Darken Rahl, or the tyrant would have been a Confessor.  
  
Unless the grayness had been a sign that Richard and the Mord'Sith, Cara, were being transported to some other world?  
  
Richard missed Kahlan desperately already.  
  
Dacey Rahl opened her eyes. "Everything's fine," she said.  
  
Richard couldn't agree.  
  


* * *

  
Nicholas Rahl led the way through the open gates of the People's Palace. The ride from West Granthia had been long, but the task of keeping the horse provided him under control had at least given Richard something to concentrate on other than Nicholas's disturbing tale.  
  
Fifty-eight years. A lifetime had passed for Richard and Cara in seconds.  
  
Neither of them spoke much, as Nicholas described the D'Haran Empire.  
  
He pointed out a People's Hospital as they entered the capital city. People in the streets called greetings to him, smiling and addressing him either as 'Lord Rahl' or 'Grandfather Confessor.' The titles appeared interchangeable.  
  
Inside the courtyard of the People's Palace, for such it must be, people going unhurriedly about their tasks gazed curiously at Richard and Cara.  
  
One woman strode forward as they dismounted, her steps fast and sure even though she was quite old. Her white hair was pulled ruthlessly back into the traditional braid of the Mord'Sith, and her red leathers hung slightly loose on her delicate frame.  
  
"Cara," she whispered, as she drew level with them.  
  
"Dahlia," the Mord'Sith who had been transported here with Richard breathed back.  
  
In that moment, it was as though Richard, Nicholas, the Rahl sisters, and all the people in the courtyard didn't exist.  
  
Dahlia drew Cara's arm through hers. "We must speak," she said warmly. "I have a great deal to show you."  
  
Cara let herself be led away, as grooms came forward to take charge of the horses.  
  
Richard felt strangely bereft. Cara was the only person he knew in this strange world, and now she was leaving him, too.  
  
Nicholas was still leading him somewhere, though; he had drawn Richard's arm through his, as though aware that otherwise Richard might just stand here, trying to make sense of the impossible.  
  
As they strolled toward the palace, a young woman whose stomach was swollen with child and a girl no older than eighteen approached.  
  
"Ah, Richard, this is my daughter, Serafine, and my niece, Zia," Nicholas said, indicating first the pregnant woman and then the girl. "And this is Richard."  
  
"OMC, _the_ Richard?" exclaimed Zia. She had Kahlan's blue eyes and dark hair, and frankly bounced with excitement.  
  
"Welcome home, Uncle Richard," said Serafine.  
  
She smiled, and drew Zia away.  
  
"'OMC'?" Richard asked. He didn't feel equal to interpreting Serafine's welcome.  
  
"Oh, my Creator," Dara explained drily. "She has all the children saying it now."  
  
It was at that moment that Richard began to truly believe he was in another time, and not just some parallel world where Darken Rahl hadn't been an evil tyrant. If even the verbal expressions were different, what else might have changed?  
  
The throne room appeared busy when they entered, but a Mord'Sith dressed head-to-toe in white leather swung herself gracefully out of her throne and held up a hand to stall the discussions in progress.  
  
"My wife, Lillian," said Nicholas, beaming proudly.  
  
Lillian was tiny, with hair like a streak of flame. Richard got the impression that even time itself had not yet dared to mar the perfection of her features, although she too was not young.  
  
Alone out of everyone he'd met so far, she did not appear entirely friendly. She gave Richard a coolly evaluating look that he found unnerving.  
  
"It's an honor, Seeker," Lillian Rahl said at last. She and Nicholas exchanged an unreadable look, before Nicholas dragged Richard further into the palace.  
  
Nicholas introduced Richard to several more relatives on their way up what must have been every flight of stairs in the opulent palace. Almost all were women, and each was plainly curious and equally plainly holding that curiosity in check at Nicholas's unspoken request.  
  
Richard was grateful for this consideration; he was nearly speechless with combined bewilderment and dread. He had not yet mustered the courage to ask about Kahlan.  
  
It seemed every Rahl Nicholas introduced had her eyes.  
  


* * *

  
At last, they reached their destination: a series of rooms lit with torches at the top of the palace.  
  
"The attics," Nicholas explained, snapping his fingers; more candles lit.  
  
Richard and Nicholas were alone now; even the Rahl sisters had melted away down various corridors, as they approached the attics.  
  
The first room contained several glass cupboards behind which glinted gold and diamonds and other precious stones. There were several wooden chests and a full suit of armor in one corner.  
  
Runes labeled the cupboards; Richard had never learned to read ancient runes, of course, but the meanings came to his mind as soon as he looked at them. They were in the same language as that of the Book of Counted Shadows.  
  
"'Jewelry, Harmless,'" he read aloud. "'Jewelry, Possessed.' 'Jewelry, Magical…'"  
  
"All the truly harmless pieces are in the public museums, now," Nicholas commented. "The attics used to be an unholy mess, until Dara and Dacey and Mistress Berdine went through and organized them. They were careful, and it took years; after the time Mother was possessed by the spirit of Queen Liviana, Father wasn't going to let them take chances."  
  
Richard had no idea what to say to this, but Nicholas didn't seem to expect a reply; he strode over to the opposite wall and held open the door.  
  
The next room was wall-to-wall bookcases, each crammed with thick volumes bound in red and decorated with gold.  
  
Only when Richard had stepped fully inside did he notice the tapestry squeezed into a shadowy corner between two bookshelves. It was a red so dark as to be almost black, and shone with golden embroidery.  
  
Richard stepped closer. He had to squint in order to make out the names drawn in gold.  
  
"It's a family tree," Nicholas said, unnecessarily. He stood at Richard's shoulder. "The names appear automatically—except for Aunt Jennsen, Dara, and my nephew Nathaniel, of course." He pointed to a name. "That's me," another name, "and that's you."  
  
Richard read _Nicholas Rahl_ , and the date of birth beneath. It was only a little over a year after what had happened to Richard and Cara had…happened.  
  
And there were the sisters: Dara, Dacey, Nadina, Melantrys. The date of death for Nadina Rahl was less than two years after her birth.  
  
Reluctantly, Richard raised his eyes to the next level of names.  
  
 _Jennsen Rahl_ , also with a date of death. A brief calculation told Richard she'd been gone for about five years.  
  
 _Richard Rahl._  
  
"No…." Richard whispered. But the denial was more for form's sake than anything else. Nicholas and Serafine had both called him uncle. And he had never known the identity of his birth father.  
  
If this were true, then his brother was…  
  
 _Darken Rahl._ The name was connected, by a thin line of gold, to that of _Kahlan Amnell._  
  
Kahlan.  
  
What had Rahl done to her? She would never have married him willingly. But even worse was the knowledge that she was truly gone.  
  
"She's dead," Richard said aloud, as if that could make it more bearable.  
  
Kahlan had lived to be an old woman, a grandmother, and yet Richard remembered her as she had been when they met. As she had been just hours ago when she Confessed him.  
  
"She never entirely recovered from Father's death," Nicholas agreed.  
  
For the first time, the optimism and downright friendliness were gone from his voice.  
  
Richard sneered his disbelief. The very idea that Darken Rahl's death would have hurt Kahlan was ludicrous. How could it? Rahl was a tyrant, a monster. Richard and Kahlan had spent months looking for him, so that Richard could fulfill the prophecy.  
  
It was too late for that now. Unfortunately.  
  
There was a faint rustle as Nicholas pulled an envelope from between two thick books.  
  
"She told me to give you this." Nicholas handed the thick parchment to Richard.  
  
He took it automatically, noticing an irregular lump under his fingers.  
  
"Is there somewhere…?" Richard asked.  
  
He couldn't open the envelope here, in this attic library, with the Rahl family tree gleaming ominously down at him.  
  
Nicholas seemed like a good man, but Richard missed Kahlan. And if he couldn't be with her, he needed to be alone with whatever she had left for him.  
  
There had to be a way to get her back.  
  
"Of course," Nicholas said at once.  
  


* * *

  
Richard sat on a bench beside a fountain. Riotous and colorful blooms surrounded him, but at least there were no more Rahls. The garden was obviously kept with both love and energy, but the cheerfulness of the plants was easier to bear than that of Nicholas, his sisters, his daughters, his nieces….  
  
His wife had not been especially friendly, but she was a Mord'Sith. Which was odd, considering that Nicholas must be a Confessor.  
  
The problem of how Nicholas and Lillian had dealt with the Confessors' curse was no longer pressing, however.  
  
Richard took a breath, and opened the envelope. A silver star, a Creatormas ornament, tipped out into his hand.  
  
He almost smiled, but it hurt too much.  
  
Carefully, Richard unfolded the thick parchment. Kahlan's neat, looping handwriting met his blurred sight.  
  
He blinked his eyes clear. Whatever horror she had to confide to him, he was ready to face it. He had to be.  
  


* * *

  
_My dearest Richard,  
  
Do you remember when you gave me the stars?  
  
You taught me to hope, to look for the good in people. You were the first man I ever loved, and the best friend I ever had. So thank you.  
  
I know right now you're feeling lost. You've been thrown forward in time, and I know already that so much has changed.  
  
You can read the facts in any history, but I owe you so much more than that. I've never possessed the gift of fixing a memory to parchment, like a flower blossom, pressed and dried, and yet still retaining some of that beauty, the fragrance of another time and place.  
  
But for your sake, I will try.  
  
We were on that hill in West Granthia. You put together the Boxes of Orden, and I Confessed you. And then Darken and his Mord'Sith appeared out of nowhere, Mistress Cara struck you with her agiel, and there was a huge explosion of magic. When the dust cleared, Zedd was dead, and you and she were gone as if you had never been. And I was alone.  
  
I've thought about that night so much. It was the moment everything changed. I know, now, that the Boxes of Orden will have to be destroyed. Such power is too much for any person to hold, no matter how well intentioned.  
  
I married Darken. But surely you know that.  
  
It began as part of the peace, the slow easing of hostilities between our states. I never wanted to betray my love for you, but you should know that it  was my choice. Once, I believed the prophecy was the only way to save my people. Without you, I had to find another way.  
  
I can only pray that the peace endures. I know that you will help my children keep it when you return. They will need you. The world needs you.  
  
I was terrified when Nicholas was born. You know the curse of male Confessors. But Darken believes as you do, and as I do now: no one is born evil. If you knew what my husband has suffered, and the courage it has taken for him to choose the light, you would share my feelings.  
  
I pray that you will find it in your heart to forgive him.  
  
And that you will forgive me. I could have gone on with you, and I can go on without you, because I must. But I can't just stay still, not even for you.  
  
I hope I will be able to tell you all this in person. But if not, know that I will always regret not being able to spend my life with you. I love you, Richard.  
  
Whatever the future holds, I know you will meet its challenges with courage and its joys with love.  
  
Remember me.  
  
Love always,  
  
Kahlan_   
  


* * *

  
"What are you writing?"  
  
Kahlan looked up, and smiled instinctively at Darken. She waved the parchment through the warm, fragrant air of the garden, to speed the drying of the ink.  
  
"A letter to Richard," she answered. "He deserves the truth."  
  
Or at least as much of it as he could stand. Kahlan would not burden Richard with her lingering doubts about her plan to prevent him and Mistress Cara from returning to the past and undoing the present. She would never be entirely free of that guilt and uncertainty, but she had made her decision.  
  
Darken stepped behind where Kahlan sat on the bench in front of the fountain and kissed her hair. She instantly suspected him of trying to read the letter, and frowned.  
  
But what he said was, "Some people get what they deserve. Others of us get luckier than that."  
  
Kahlan leaned her head back against his chest and raised startled eyes to his face. Darken laughed at her expression.  
  
He tapped two fingers against her bottom lip before pushing her gently upright on the bench.  
  
"I will await you," Darken promised, in a low voice that never failed to set Kahlan's blood humming.  
  
He strolled toward the other end of the garden, near the blueleaf trees, and Kahlan reread the letter.  
  
It wasn't perfect, and it wasn't everything. But she had planned and revised what she wanted to say far too many times.  
  
Kahlan raised the thick parchment to her lips, and kissed it just above Richard's name.  
  
Then she folded the letter neatly and slid it into the envelope containing the star.  
  
"I love you, Richard," she whispered. "Goodbye."


End file.
